’ Grasping the lantern, and heedless now of the discomforts of the passage, Melusine flew like the wind back towards the library, the vision of Jack Kimble’s white face driving her on. She felt a little ashamed of herself, a bit of a hypocrite. Personally, however, I doubt if—’ ‘Charvill?’ interrupted Gerald without ceremony, all his senses at once on the alert. ‘She’s wearing a lightskirt’s clothing?’ ‘Nothing obviously so, I assure you.
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